Chapter 6

The whole atmosphere of the house had changed once Sam and Dean showed up. Sam was pissed and determined to kill this demon of theirs, maybe to compensate for the fear he was feeling. Dean was just scared. He was scared that his Dad would die, scared that Sam would die doing something stupid, scared that they would never get the thing that killed their Mom. It had to be overwhelming, but he was playing it off surprisingly well. Gabby seemed pretty impressed with it too.

Bobby had to talk them down when they first got here; they were both running over each other trying to explain what the hell was going on. From what I gathered from their thoughts and Dean's hasty explanation of events since we left them, a demon named Meg has killed a lot of their Dad's old friends and now had him hostage. Of course, bringing a fake to the trade hadn't been their smoothest move. John had to have known that it wouldn't work; that's like the first thing a demon would check for.

"Look, I know this plan was sketchy from the beginning, but my Dad's in trouble. She said…she said they killed him, but I don't buy it. They're going to want to make a trade, I know it," Dean said as he finished his recap. Sam hung his head. He disagreed. If we were going to be logical, it was a fifty-fifty shot. They could have kept him to make a trade for the Colt, but they also could have killed him hoping that Sam and Dean would just bring the Colt to avenge his death.

Sam was smart to keep his opinions to himself. It would break Dean if he really thought his father was dead. "If you two get to the Colt to them fast enough, they're sure as hell going to come after it themselves. What you boys need is a plan," Bobby announced gruffly.

"I'm all ears," Dean said. I could feel the desperation tinge his thoughts, even if he kept it from leaking into his voice.

"Well, we can't just kill this demon, Meg, right?" Bobby paused for affirmation before going on. "We're going to have to get her to stay put long enough to figure out what happened to John."

"So you're suggesting that we try to trap a demon? How?" Dean asked, sounding more than a little skeptical.

"I've got an idea. I don't know if it'll work, but it's better than nothin'. You two get some coffee or something while I go find the book I need. The girls know where everything is." Bobby said and promptly left the room.

"I'll put some coffee on, if you'd like," Gabby offered.

"Yeah, thanks, we drove all night so we're going to need it," Dean nodded. Gabby got up from the rickety old chair she was occupying, and walked into the kitchen. Dean ran one of his hands down his face and blinked tiredly. The fatigue was starting to set in now that his adrenaline was wearing off.

I was kind of staring as I was taking it all in, so I wasn't surprised that he caught my eye and gave me an obligatory half-smile. I tried to reciprocate, but it probably ended up looking like I was in pain.

"Sorry you guys are getting drug into our family shit again," Sam said from behind Bobby's desk. I just shrugged. It's not like we've got somewhere else to be. It was kind of dangerous, but that just comes with the territory.

"I know you've gotta be tired of hearing the name Winchester by now. I would be," Dean sighed.

"No, not really," I replied, "It helps that you're all such a charming bunch." I couldn't keep a straight face for very long at that, and neither could they.

"Alright, it should be done in a few minutes." Gabby said as she reentered the room.

"Thanks," Dean said, and Gabby muttered a "Don't mention it." It was good to know that it only took a family member in mortal peril to bring the two of them closer together.

Bobby walked in a few minutes later with a rather large book in hand. It was an old, dusty book I know I'd seen around here before. At the time, I didn't understand a thing that was in it.

"I found what I was looking for: The Key of Solomon,"Bobby reported as he flipped through the pages. "…haven't looked through this in ages…hope I find the damn thing…" he thought absentmindedly.

"And what is that exactly?" Dean asked as he eyed the book suspiciously.

"It's King Solomon's book of spells. Now hush so I can find what I'm looking for…" Bobby grumbled. I could see a lot of archaic, geometric drawings sifting through Bobby's mind. Of course, there had to be some symbol or pentacle that could protect them from Meg in there.

"...Solomon?...why are we messing with magic at a time like this?..." Dean's thoughts were flooded with confusion.

"Solomon was a prophet. He was King of Israel, son of David," Gabby looked at him like she was expecting him to understand, but he had no idea what she was talking about. Sam's shoulders were shaking with silent laughter behind them. "…so not the bible school type…" He stopped laughing abruptly when Bobby plopped the book down in front of him.

"There's your plan right there," Bobby said and pointed to an intricate design centered on one of the pages. Sam stared at it so hard I almost heard the wheels turning in his head.

"What is it?" he finally asked, defeated.

"It's a pentacle. It can be used as a protective circle, or it can be used to banish, summon, or contain people and entities," Bobby explained.

"So our plan is to capture her long enough to find out what she knows, and then what?"

"Exorcise her. She ain't boardin' eternity in my living room, so she's got to go," Bobby chuckled. He left the room again and came back shortly with a ladder and some painting supplies. We all caught on to what he was doing and helped him get the pentacle on the ceiling, but he insisted on doing most of it himself because it had to be 'damn near perfect'.

"Only thing left to do now is to wait," Bobby huffed as he put the ladder away, "I'll be back in a second."

"Do you think this will turn nasty?" I thought to Gabby. For a moment, all I heard was static.

"I don't know," she finally responded, "It could go both ways. I sure hope everything turns out okay. You were right about John earlier."

I responded with a confused look, so she explained, "It would be terrible for them to lose their father right now, and it would devastate Dean. He'd be inconsolable, totally worthless on the job."

"Here you go," Bobby offered Dean a silver flask with a cross on it. He was holding an identical one in his other hand.

"What is this? Holy water?" Dean asked while he inspected it.

"That one is. This one is whiskey." Bobby replied before he took a swig. He offered it to Dean, and he drank some too. I guess everybody has their own ways of coping with stress. Gabby rolled her eyes, clearly disapproving.

"Bobby," Dean started. "Bobby, thanks for everything. To tell you the truth I wasn't sure if we should come."

"Nonsense, your Daddy needs help," Bobby brushed it off. Sam had looked from the Key long enough to marvel at Dean's sentimental outburst.

"Yeah, well, the last time we saw you, you threatened to blast him full of buckshot. You cocked the shotgun and everything."

"What can I say? John just has that effect on people," Bobby chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess he does," Dean conceded.

"It's not too late to get out of here before the action starts,"Gabby's suggestion rang through my head. It would be smart to leave, but they were our friends. It was a really perverted version of friendship, but it still counted. "You're probably right. I just didn't want you to feel trapped here, you know?" Gabby gave me a reassuring smile from across the room.

"Bobby, this book…I've never seen anything like it," Sam commented seemingly out of nowhere. He had been pretty focused on that thing since Bobby had put it in front of him.

"It's the real deal all right," Bobby replied.

"Are you sure these protective circles are going to work?"

"Hell yeah, they work. You get this demon to walk into this thing, they're trapped. They're powerless. It's like a satanic roach motel."

"The man knows his stuff," Dean remarked.

"I'll tell you something else I know: this is some serious crap you boys stepped in," Bobby replied. He sat down on the desk and readjusted his trucker cap. "…always knew John would drag these two down the deep end with him…"

"Oh yeah, how's that?" Sam asked.

"Normal year, I hear about three demonic possessions, maybe four tops. This year I heard of twenty-seven so far. Shoot, almost half the cases I got lined up for these two are screaming 'demonic entity'. You get what I'm saying?" Bobby's tone had gotten pretty concerned. Sam and Dean shared one of their looks. They were both thinking the same thing. The yellow-eyed demon was behind this.

"Do you know why this is happening?" Sam asked Bobby.

"No, but I know it's big. You boys, your Daddy, you are smack in the middle of it."

There was a silence in the room for a split second, and I'm not proud to admit I got some goose bumps. I knew that this was big. I just now registered that I wasn't comfortable with the fact that it was so outrageously bigger than me.

The fleeting moment was broken by the sound of Bobby's dog barking. He got up quickly and crossed to the window. We all rushed to the other side of the room to see what was wrong.

"Rumsfeld?" Bobby was straining to see anything through the blinds. "Something's wrong."

That something kicked Bobby's door in about two seconds later.

"No more crap, okay?" she announced, agitated. For a sociopathic demon she sure looked pretty normal. Petite, blonde pixie cut, jeans and a t-shirt. The look in her eyes was what set her apart.

Dean tried to deter her with holy water, but she sent him flying into the wall. Gabby whipped out her gun, with salt rounds, but Sam shoved it down towards the ground. "It'll only make her more pissed off,"he thought to her. She begrudgingly left her gun down.

Meg was approaching us now. I couldn't read her mind, but I could feel the energy coming off of her. She was strong. She was stronger than anything we'd come up against before. Sam pushed Bobby behind him, trying to get in front of all of us.

"I want the Colt, Sam. I want the real one. Right now," Meg demanded.

"We don't have it on us. We buried it," Sam lied, trying to back away from her. I don't blame her for not being convinced.

"Didn't I just say 'no more crap'?" She started to raise her voice. "I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I've got to tell you I'm a little underwhelmed."

Sam was backing up, backing us all up, towards the other side of the room.

"First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads. Did you really think I wouldn't find you?" She finished her little rant.

"Actually, we were counting on it." Dean grunted. Damn, I really thought he was down for the count on that one. Meg turned to look back at him, but he directed his eyes to the ceiling over her head. That's when she noticed it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Meg screamed at the pentacle. She was half-hysterical as Sam and Dean wrestled her into a chair and tied her down. Bobby left to make sure she didn't have back up outside anywhere.

"You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask," Meg's tone was disturbingly sultry. Dean and Sam didn't bat an eyelash. They seemed pretty livid. I'd hate to be the one responsible for messing with their family right now.

"I salted the doors and windows. If there are any demons out there, they aren't getting in here," Bobby reported as he came back into the room. Dean nodded and walked over to stand right in front of Meg.

"You two keep watch near the front door, just in case. Holler if you need anything." Bobby handed us some holy water and slapped us both on the back. The front door was pretty close to the room Meg was in, so we could still hear everything that was going on.

"Where's our father, Meg?" Dean demanded.

"You didn't ask very nicely."

"Where's our father, bitch?" He didn't miss a beat.

"Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh, that's right, you can't."

"You think this is a fucking game?" Dean finally snapped. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"

"He died screaming. I killed him myself." I could hear the smile in her voice.

"She's about to get it,"Gabby projected to me as she stared out the front window. I heard the sound of Dean's fist connecting with Meg's face before I could respond. She gave me a look that clearly said I-told-you-so.

"That's kind of a turn-on, you hitting a girl," Meg said, un-phased.

"You're no girl," Dean gritted out.

"Dean," Bobby warned."Dean, you've got to be careful with her. Don't hurt her."

"Why?"

"Because she really is a girl, that's why."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, sounding confused.

"She's possessed. That's a human possessed by a demon. Can't you tell?" Bobby replied like this was elementary stuff. To be fair, it kind of was.

"Are you trying to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?" Dean asked.

"How could he not know?" I wondered, astounded. Gabby just shrugged.

"I can imagine he's under some emotional distress right now," she thought back.

"Sam, get ready to read the exorcism. It's time to evict this twisted bitch," Dean ordered. There was some shuffling for a few seconds while Sam tried to locate whatever the exorcism was written down in. It was probably John's journal. If I were working with demons, that's the first thing I would do is memorize an exorcism.

"I never thought I'd say it, but thank God we've been dealing exclusively with vampires so far," Gabby thought. I nodded my agreement.

"Are you going to read me a story?" Meg asked out of the blue. Her tone was patronizing at best.

"Something like that. Hit it, Sam," Dean replied. There was a moment of hesitation before Sam began the exorcism rite.

"An exorcism, are you serious?" Meg laughed, but the stream of Latin continued.

"Oh, we're going for it baby. Head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards," Dean replied ruefully.

The only sound for the next few seconds was Sam chanting, and then I heard her start to grunt in pain. I was scared it wasn't going to work for a second there. Sam stopped reading long enough for the demon to regain her composure.

"I'm going to kill you," she whispered, "I'm going to rip the bones from your body."

"No, you're going to burn in hell. Not unless you tell us where our Dad is." Dean didn't sound as scared as he felt. His mind was a mess right now. He waited a beat, and when she didn't respond he said, "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan."

Sam finally started reading the exorcism again. It took a few more seconds for it to start working again, but then she started groaning.

"He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat," she yelled over the exorcism. It was enough to get Sam to stutter over the next few words of the right.

The tension in that room was building. They were close to getting that thing out of that girl's body, I could feel it. The energy leaking out of that pentacle was dark and twisted, pure evil. It wasn't like anything I'd felt before. It was honestly making me nauseous. Gabby was having trouble hiding her disgust as well.

I could hear Dean murmuring something, but I didn't quite catch it over the sound of Sam's voice. He was beyond pissed. His thoughts weren't even in words anymore. It was just tangled balls of emotion. It was like different waves crashing over his brain at random intervals.

Every once and a while, Meg would let out a grunt or a groan. She was trying hard to hold on to her host body. How long were exorcisms supposed to take? If John really was alive, they would probably kill him when they found out Sam and Dean sent Meg back to hell. They needed to get a move on it. The window of opportunity was closing fast.

"Where is he?" Dean demanded.

"You just won't take 'dead' for an answer will you?" she panted back.

"Where is he?" Dean screamed again.

"Dead," she yelled back.

"No, he's not. He's not dead. He can't be," Dean snapped. Sam was tripping all over himself trying to get this exorcism out while his brother was having a mental breakdown. It was really starting to work now. Meg was screaming, and I could hear the definitive scrape of her chair against the hardwood floor.

. The emotions building up in that room were a little too much to take, and the demon wasn't helping. I felt like shit. One glance at Gabby, and I knew she was feeling it too. Her face had gone awfully pale. I can't imagine I looked any better.

"Maybe we should keep watch outside," she suggested weakly.

"Agreed. They don't need us in here anyway. Maybe we can find Rumsfeld," I nodded, and we both opened the door and stepped into the fresh air. My stomach was still reeling. It was like I was twelve years old again, going to the dance for the first time. All those people packed in the gym were too much for me. My stomach did a few backflips, and my head went fuzzy. I spent most of it puking in the bathroom.

"You know, I had totally forgotten about that," Gabby laughed. I guess she didn't want to stress the psychic connection anymore today.

"Feels like forever ago," I stated quietly. Everything about our old lives seemed too shiny now. I didn't really want to think about it.

"I don't think they killed John. He's too valuable," Gabby said as she sat down on one of the porch steps. I stood at the top of the steps so I'd have a better view of the junkyard.

"I guess we'll find out sooner or later. I hope this is over soon for them. We took care of our 'demons' in no time at all. John has been chasing this thing for over twenty years."

"Yeah, I'm more surprised he let himself get caught. It's not like him. He's so anal retentive and secretive about everything," Gabby sighed. The boys sure had landed themselves into a heap of trouble.

"He let his emotions get in the way. This hunt is too personal. They're too close. He isn't thinking rationally," I offered as explanation. Gabby didn't agree or disagree. I think she wanted to avoid another discussion about how I'm too cold and clinical.

Something about this whole thing didn't seem right. They knew she was coming after the Winchesters. They knew she would be outnumbered. Why hadn't any other demons shown up to help her? Were they waiting for a sign? Or was she really that confident that she thought she could take them on all by herself?

"I hope this doesn't take too much longer. I'd like to get that demon out of that girl sometime before my fiftieth birthday," I sighed, but I had spoken too soon. Meg's scream was loud enough to wake the dead. The demon leaving her body caused a tremor in the psychic field. It was like picking up seismic activity.

I helped Gabby up, and I gave the yard one last sweep before I followed her back inside. Bobby was rushing out of his study, and he thrust his phone in Gabby's hands.

"Call 911, tell them there's a girl dying out here," he ordered before he scrambled out of the room. Gabby fumbled with the phone and quickly dialed the number. Once she had given them Bobby's information, we both went to scope out the damage.

Meg, or rather the girl Meg was possessing, was lying bloody and battered on the floor. Sam and Dean were talking to her quietly. They were trying to figure out where John was and if Meg was telling the truth.

"That's a little indelicate, don't you think?" Gabby's disappointment was evident. I shrugged.

"If you were in John's shoes, and I was in theirs, I can't say I'd be very delicate either," I replied.

"Fair enough," Gabby let it drop. Bobby came back from his little excursion with blankets and a glass of water. The three of them quickly propped her head on the blankets and tried to get her to choke back some of the water.

"Do you know where the other demon is? The one we're looking for?" Sam asked her. They were running out of time. I could feel her consciousness getting weaker and weaker.

"Not there….other ones…awful ones…" she choked out. I could see in her mind the demons she was talking about. They all were in hosts, and the only scenery I saw was the inside a room. It wasn't much to go off of.

"Where are they keeping our Dad?" Dean asked. His tone was firm, like he wasn't going to let her die until he knew everything that she knew.

"By the river…s-sunrise…" the girl whispered. It was disturbing, being this close when a human spark went out. It wasn't instantaneous. It fizzled and sputtered like a car using up its last drops of gasoline. She was gone.

"Sunrise? What does that mean? What does that mean?" Dean demanded and shook her body expectantly.

"Dean, stop, it's too late," Gabby said firmly with her hand on his shoulder.

"…suicide mission…don't have shit to go on…" Dean's mind was reeling. He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. I felt sorry for Sam considering he was going to have to work with Dean like this.

"…didn't' even know her real name…God, we're so fucked…" Sam thought as he closed the girls' eyes and set her hands on her stomach.

"You boys pack your shit and hit the road. You're wasting daylight. I need you girls high-tail it out of here until I'm done dealing with the cops. I don't want you two on the Sheriff's radar," Bobby ordered. Sam and Dean shoved whatever they had brought inside into their duffel bag hastily, and Gabby ran upstairs to grab the keys.

"You might need this." Bobby handed the Key of Solomon over to Sam.

"Thanks, Bobby. What are you going to tell the paramedics?" Sam sounded concerned as he tucked the book carefully under his arm.

"You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I'll figure something out," Bobby chuckled.

"Thanks again, Bobby, for everything. Take care of yourself." Dean's genuine tone was strange and alien for him. Gabby bounded down the stairs in time to see them off.

"The same goes for you two. Go save your Dad. And once that's done, try bringing him around won't you? I promise I won't even try to shoot him this time." Bobby clapped them both on the back.

"Hey, good luck you guys. Don't be strangers either." Gabby gave them both quick hugs. They turned to me expectantly, and it took me an embarrassingly long moment to figure out why.

"Oh-uh-good luck. I guess," I shrugged. I tried not to sound too flustered, but judging by their laugher I failed.

"And here I thought you were warming up to us. See you around, Freckles," Dean said and punched me in the shoulder. I suppressed any and all urges to say 'ow'.

Gabby and I followed them out of the door and got in our car. We pulled out of Bobby's drive way right after them and headed in the opposite direction.

"Where are we going?" I asked Gabby.

"I figured we could go somewhere and shoot some cans or something. You're good with a knife, but your shot isn't exactly up to par," she responded. I hated to admit it, but she had a valid point.

"You're going to need to pick up some new clothes before you start this case," Bobby informed us as we were packing books and supplies the next day.

"Why?" I tried not to sound petulant.

"You're going to have to visit the crime scenes and maybe the morgue for this case. It'll cause less suspicion if you fake your way in as opposed to relying on your psychic stuff."

"But…isn't impersonating a federal agent really, really illegal? Like, we'll have to break out of jail if we're caught?"

"Very illegal, Abigail, but don't worry. You've got too much of a baby face to pass for a fed any time soon. For now, you two will be impersonating journalists." He laughed and tossed Gabby some badges. I took mine and studied it for a second. It looked just like a legitimate press badge. The picture was from some fake I.D.'s we had made not too long ago.

"Nice, Bobby, thanks." Gabby smiled and slipped them into one of our backpacks.

"No problem, just don't lose 'em," Bobby said and left us to the rest of our packing.

"I don't really have a baby face, do I?" I wondered aloud as I scrutinized my reflection. Gabby just laughed from across the room. She was recounting our stock of salt rounds before we packed them away.

"I think it's the freckles, Abby," she observed. "Hey, would you quit trying to frown them away and help me get this stuff to the car?"

It wasn't much gear to be honest. Most of it was weapons and Gabby's clothes. We had made a deal to try to limit how much clothing we would lug around with us, but it seemed I was the only one who actually adhered to the rule. Everyone is entitled to indulge in something though right? I'm not really into the fashion stuff or girly stuff, but even I had to admit that Gabby had style. She always looked nice. I'm always torn between marveling at it and being irritated with it.

I grabbed the two bags with weapons down to the car first, and then I went back to haul the rest of the clothes down with Gabby. It wasn't long before the car was packed and organized.

"Don't forget this," Bobby said and handed me the manila folder with all of the hunt details in it.

"Thanks," I smiled and set it down on the passenger seat.

"Remember: call me if you need anything or if you get into trouble."

"Yes, sir," Gabby said, and we both gave him a mock salute before climbing into the car.

"Idjits…think they're funny…," he thought as he shook his head. It was more loving than insulting though.

"So this is Citrus Heights huh?" Gabby remarked as we pulled into town. It wasn't really all that big, or at least it wasn't that big for a California town. I was more interested in the murders than the scenery anyway. I'd been reading the case over and over since we left Bobby's, and I still didn't have a clue as to what we were dealing with here. To be completely honest, I wasn't convinced that all of these incidents were related.

The first death happened almost three months ago. It was some big business guy: Raymond Emery. He worked for a big manufacturing company in Sacramento, and lived here with his wife and three kids. Raymond managed to trip in the shower and fell hard enough to break the glass. According to the newspaper, Raymond also was found by his house-keeper with rather large shards of glass in each eye and in his face. Something was definitely off about that. It said in the notes that Bobby had kept an eye on it, but it seemed to be an isolated incident.

Then Marty Sullivan had died six weeks ago, and it didn't seem so isolated anymore. He was a lawyer who moved out to California from Boston, but he didn't have any family out here to speak of. A very large pane of glass fell from the crane lifting it over three stories up and impaled him on his way out of his firm. His distant relative decided to cremate him because it would have taken a miracle to put him back together again. The two men had done business together on several occasions, and they were known to be friends outside of work.

Their deaths were definitely wonky, but the third story in the case threw everything out of balance. An elderly woman named Brigit Hunt died by electrocution while washing the dishes. The official report said that there was an 'unidentified electrical malfunction' which meant that the police had no idea how it happened. They had every electrical expert and plumbing specialists in the area try to figure it out, but they all ruled it as a very fatal anomaly. The problem is that there is absolutely no connection between the two men and Brigit beyond their strange and painful deaths.

"You're over-thinking it." Gabby sighed from the driver's seat. She had insisted on driving the whole way, so her fatigue was really her own fault.

"Where do you want to start?" I asked.

"That old lady's family, I think. Her death is the most recent. We can also look into those two guys' histories and see if there was anywhere important they collided. This whole thing is a mess."

"You know, we'd cover more ground if one of us did the researching while the other one went out to question people," I suggested.

"That's a good idea actually. We'll book a motel, and then you can change and go talk to the Hunt family while I visit the library."

"Gabby!" I groaned, rather melodramatically I might add. I was hoping to avoid the whole "social interaction" thing on this hunt.

"Look, I love you, but it's time."

"Time for what, exactly?"

"You know what, Abigail. You're going to talk to that dead lady's kids," Gabby replied firmly. I knew fighting her was a lost cause, so I just rolled my eyes and decided to sulk the rest of the drive.

Of course, I knew what she was talking about. We had a 'talk' a few weeks ago about all the things that were going to change now that the vampires were all dead. She had told me that we had to start living life instead of just going through the motions. I think she was talking about all of that smelling-the-roses stuff. Gabby had also told me that I had to quit benching myself before the game even began, whatever that meant.

It was easy for her to say that I had to come out of my shell; she never had a shell to come out of in the first place. Gabby was full of natural confidence and openness that had always contrasted starkly with my extreme introversion and 'anti-social tendencies'. I could be sociable. I just don't like to talk about stupid stuff like the weather or sports or how any of your weird children are doing.

Gabby snorted and snapped me back to reality.

"What's so funny?" I demanded.

"You're overthinking it again. Now quit before you give yourself an aneurysm. I won't accept that as an excuse not to talk to the Hunt family."

"Alright, spill. What did you find out?" Gabby ordered as soon as she came barging back into our hotel room.

"I think we're dealing with witches," I replied, not taking my eyes off of my laptop screen.

"What makes you say that?" Gabby sounded skeptical.

"I talked to her son today. He said all of the usual stuff: she was a nice old lady, nice to everyone. I don't think he had a clue what she was up to. He just said that she was into 'new age mumbo jumbo'. I asked him what he meant, and he ended up showing me a hex bag she had given him."

"Oh, well, I guess that's a good reason to speculate."

"Yeah, I thought so too," I replied dryly.

"Don't be a jerk, Abigail. You found out the monster, but I found out the connection between the three victims."

"Care to elaborate?"

"About a year ago, Emery's brother was charged with rape by Diana Hunt, Brigit's granddaughter. Sullivan was the one defending him, and he ended up getting sentenced to some community service or something because he was such an 'upstanding citizen'."

"Are you serious? He had to, like, pick up trash as recompense for raping someone?"

"Dead serious," Gabby nodded gravely. "By the way, who the hell says recompense anymore?"

"Well, excuse me and my expanded vocabulary."

"Calm down, Shakespeare. Anyway, Hunt didn't react well to the verdict either. She broke into his house a month later, waited for him to get home from work, and then she stabbed him thirty-seven times in the chest, face, and-uh-genitals. They had to identify his body by his teeth because he was so disfigured."

I just stared in shocked silence. "Talk about going off the deep end."

"You're telling me. Anyway, Sullivan worked the case against her for first-degree murder, and now she's in jail for twenty years to life."

"Okay, so that explains Emery and Sullivan's deaths, but it doesn't explain Grandma. Not unless she had some sort of beef with her too?"

"No way, her Grandmother was the one knocking on doors trying to raise money and awareness. They were really close apparently. If they really are witches, then I think it was Grandma who was doing the hexing."

"Could be," I thought for a moment. "I remember reading something about the law of three. It's like one of Newton's laws for witches. Everything, bad or good, that you put out into the universe comes back to you three-fold."

"Are you saying that the whole deep-fried Granny incident was bad karma?" Gabby sounded more than a little skeptical.

"It's possible. What other explanation is there?" I was honestly at a loss for any other ways for all of these deaths to have happened, but Gabby and I shared a resonating bad feeling.

"It can't be that easy. It's never that easy."

Gabby is grunting and groaning in her sleep again. It's been a while since she had any bad dreams. I guess it was only a matter of time. I didn't have the heart or the energy to wake her up at the moment, so I just let her sleep it off.

It's our third day in Citrus Heights, and I couldn't sleep so I tried doing some exercise. I went out for a run, and now I'm sweaty, disgusting, and lying on the motel room floor as a result of an aborted rep of push-ups. It was hard trying to maintain muscle mass to try to keep up with all of the men we had to work with. I honestly didn't exercise that much unless I couldn't sleep or Gabby was threatening my life. I just find sleeping a much more enjoyable and useful task.

I really should wake Gabby up soon; there was another death last night. Some lady named Janet Abel choked to death on her herbal tea. Her friends tried to perform the Heimlich maneuver, and the paramedics tried to perform CPR but no dice. I'd bet money that the pathologist would find the tea in her lungs. I'd also be surprised if no one found a hex bag in her house somewhere.

"Gabby, let's go. We've still got a case." I shook her awake once I had begrudgingly hauled myself off of the floor. She groaned and tried to hide in the blankets. We wrestled for control of the blankets for a few seconds before I managed to rip them off of her. Vengeance is sweet.

"What time is it?" She groped for the alarm clock to check the time. "Why are you awake…and sweaty?"

"The early bird gets the worm, I guess. Get up."

"What happened? Did someone else die?"

"Yeah," I replied while I started up the coffee maker. "Some poor lady drowned in her tea last night while we were sitting around going through those court transcripts."

"She drowned in her tea? Jesus. How is this still happening? Everyone who was involved is dead right?" Gabby sounded frustrated. She ran her hand over her face a few times, trying to wake herself up.

"Apparently there's more going on here. We need to get a move on and figure out what it is before anybody else gets hurt."

"I agree. You can have first shower. You smell awful."